Time
by jillian
Time goes by without a glance
Maybe on purpose
Maybe by chance
Just slips away without a throught perhaps its dull or overwrought.
Still it seems a waste of time not to grasp each day as mine.
To use the hours with some finese and discard hours of emptiness
To rise and shine and six a.m. and not think when will this day end.
To wake and bloom, strike up the band then kick the tic of the second hand.
So. I could approach my hours with ease
After all sixty seconds goes by like a breeze.
Poetry
Gay Love ADVICE
